The Perfect Revenge
by pussycatwithattitude
Summary: John learns over time the best kind of revenge. He is reminded of this every day, even in the most simplest of ways… Post Series 4. It's fluff, but with references to the events of Series 4.


**A/N: **So this is what I'd like to see in Series 5 but yeah, I can't see it. This is just fluff really, although there are quite a few references to the events of Series 4. The idea for the last part has been in my mind since we had my baby nephew to come and stay because it really is adorable. I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of this etc etc.

* * *

**The Perfect Revenge**

John winced as William let out another painful scream, their little boy fisting his hand as he attempted to put it in his mouth and sooth his sore gums. William John Bates had been teething for a few weeks now and at four months old and, naturally, all he could do to voice his displeasure was to cry.

It had caused a lot of sleepless nights for the married couple, and whilst John spent some time in relative peace up at work, the staff up there had begun to notice that he seemed weary, and John also recognised that it was all beginning to take its toll on Anna. It was not just the tiredness, they both hated to see William in pain, but for Anna to stay here all day with him and find little to sooth his pain, he sensed that she was beginning to feel helpless, even though he would never agree with her conclusion.

But, as all parents would say, it was all worth it in the end. The sleepless nights and the constant cries of their son were merely part of the parcel, and nothing could even compare to the moments of peace between them and their son, where William would give them gummy smiles and kick out his legs in excitement upon seeing them.

The couple had waited for years to be blessed with a child, and after many years of marriage with no news, the two of them had secretly resigned themselves to the realisation they may never have a child of their own. Adoption had been discussed at a couple of stages, but after the trauma Anna had suffered the idea had been put to the side, and it was only a couple of years later, once their marital relations had resumed and Anna had begun to heal properly when the subject had been broached again.

But it need not have been broached for long, because it seemed that as soon as they had started to talk about the idea of having a child again – even with some reservation, given it seemed like a distant hope at the time – Anna had received the news that they were to expect their first child. The pregnancy did not come completely without complications, since Anna was a late first time mother Doctor Clarkson had voiced some potential risks, and Anna had suffered greatly with morning sickness, her being slight not at all helping in John's opinion. But none of that mattered nine months later when Anna had given birth to their beautiful, perfect baby boy up at the big house, with Lady Mary and Mrs Hughes beside her for support.

They had named him William after their fallen friend, the strongest name either of them could think of for their son. Anna had compromised with the name, only to have her say that his middle name would be taken from his father. John was far too deliriously happy at the time to argue, watching Anna cradle their son as he spent his first minutes in the world.

As it were, Anna was currently cradling William to her chest, running her hand up and down his back gently and swaying from side to side as she attempted to calm him down. The wooden spoon that he would sometimes gnaw on in an attempt to sooth his gums was lying on the kitchen table, it having become futile to William as he had dropped it onto the floor earlier as he took over in hysterics once more.

John watched Anna sympathetically from his situation in the doorway, not wanting to leave her today but knowing he had little choice. His wife suddenly looked up from their crying baby and their eyes met. She seemed to understand his thoughts, and immediately set an end to his predicament.

"Go," she instructed him. "Else you'll be late."

John sighed, stepping forward into the kitchen dressed for work, his cane tapping on the stone floor. He approached them and rested one hand on her upper arm, his thumb rubbing circles through her clothing. "Are you sure?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

"We can manage." Anna gave him a tired smile that was not at all reassuring, but John sighed in defeat.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, noting how Anna leant into him just a little and how her eyes fluttered closed. John murmured not to worry herself about dinner, and that he would sort something for them when he returned home. Anna opened her mouth to argue, her eyes flinging open albeit wearily, but John fixed her with a stern look. She knew better than to argue with him about these things – she knew that he liked to do as much as possible to make things easier for her, and that making dinner for them, albeit the simplest of meals that he could manage, was one of the ways he would do that.

"And you," John addressed William, moving around to look into his face. Anna shifted him a little, turning him around to face his father, his eyes still raw from crying and his forehead and cheeks red from the effort. "I will see you later." John offered his son his finger as William wrapped his spare fist around it, quietening for a moment before letting his pain become known again with an ear-splitting wail.

"Go on," Anna persuaded, nodding her head towards the door. "We can manage here."

John reached over and gave her one final kiss on the lips before turning around and leaving the cottage, carrying only his cane and a heavy heart as the sound of the wailing drifted out of their home.

* * *

The walk up to the Abbey had always left them time to think – over the years it had done more harm than good at times – and now all John Bates could think of was his wife and son. He let his eyes close briefly as he walked, his tiredness from the night before catching up with him. John Bates had always suffered from insomnia, so he was no stranger to a lack of sleep, but somehow being kept awake by his son was a different matter.

He opened his eyes again and focused on the path, the path he and Anna had taken so many times before. He smiled as he imagined some of them – the better times, the worse times. He remembered it being around this spot where Anna had first declared her love on the way to the flower show, where the two had first walked down to the cottage to catch the first glimpse of their new home, where Anna had broken down on their way back to the Abbey after her first night back in the cottage.

His breath caught as he remembered that time, the darkest time in their lives. It had been difficult that time, because he had struggled with the idea to wrap his arms around her, tell her physically that she was safe and he would ensure that no harm would ever come to her again. But she still flinched, and he had to ask her first, although this time he had no need to be hesitant, because she nodded instantly and he moved his arms around her carefully, cradling her head to his chest.

Remembering this reminded him of a walk to work some time ago now. It was the time she had first approached him about whether he had killed Green, and it was the time she had to eventually reveal the identity of her attacker. It had evidently been causing a wedge between them for a while, and he was glad in a way that this secret had been shared.

He had been surprised. It was the first time, of course, that she had revealed her attacker to him. He could tell she was shaken because of it. It had taken her weeks afterwards to return to some normalcy, the unwanted memories coming back to the forefront of her mind, leaving her plagued with nightmares because of it. He had suffered them too, now that he had been given the confirmation it was Green. He had known, deep down, but somehow Anna having the confidence to tell him was the trigger.

But right then, on the old road that had held so many fond memories for them, he had explained. He had been in London that day. Mrs Hughes and Lady Mary knew, and Anna had been surprised at that. His used ticket had been in the pocket of his old overcoat. A look of realisation had dawned across Anna, and she had mumbled something about the coat for the poor and his reaction to it.

'_So you were in London when he was killed?'_

Anna had mumbled, her face having turned ashen as though she would be sick.

He nodded, and told her he was in London, but not for the reason she thought. She had been confused still, but he had continued to explain. They would be late for work, but neither of them found it within them to care right now. They stood rooted to the spot as John revealed the reasons he had been there that day. She had been in London herself with Lady Mary, the perfect time to go without her knowledge. Anna had paled once more, but he could see in her eyes that she trusted him. He had wanted to speak with the tenants of the house. He revealed that he had been in correspondence with Mr Travers for quite some time, and that the couple who lived there with their young daughter were interested in buying. This had been news to Anna.

John explained that after everything that had happened, he thought he would enquire about the possibilities, and then maybe even the idea of their little hotel. He explained that it had been a failure, since the tenants were looking to pay less for the house at the moment than it had been estimated at by the lawyer. John had left London after that, and had been nowhere near Piccadilly at all.

He had revealed nothing to her because he had not wanted to raise her hopes, only for them to be crushed again.

Anna had cried in relief. She had flung her arms around his neck and cried into the space where his neck met his shoulder.

He had held her, rocked her, and soothed her.

John let out a heavy sigh at the memory, but then allowed for a small smile to spread across his lips as he realised the extent to which Anna had come – their happiness now, and the change in their lives that William had brought.

As he continued to walk, he continued to recall the strength Anna had shown over the years, how the good had started to outweigh the bad, and how she deserved every little piece of happiness she had now.

* * *

Anna brushed her loose hair aside as she struggled to settle a screaming William in her arms. Her eyes were weary: she was tired, hungry and her heart ached as she imagined the pain her young son must be going through. She was also feeling dejected as William had refused to take his feed from her, and he was due to have been fed hours ago.

Sighing tiredly, Anna walked from their living room into the kitchen, hoping that the movement might settle William and that the new surroundings would provide him with something else to concentrate on. As it were, he continued to scream in pain until Anna scooped down and collected the wooden spoon from the kitchen table, giving it to her son who proceeded to put the end in his mouth.

It soothed William for a little while, and Anna sighed in relief.

She could feel the sweat on her brow, and also noticed that the baby's cheeks were still bright red and very warm to the touch. Anna quickly decided to go upstairs and prepare a cool bath for him, spreading out a large towel on the floor and placing William down as she began to prepare it.

The bath did not take long to fill for William – it only required a few trips up and down the stairs to the kitchen sink for Anna – and as she lifted the baby into the tub his quiet sobs began to subside as he cooled down considerably. It must have been a combination of the teething and also the warm weather, Anna thought to herself as she splashed the water over William with one hand and steadied him with her other.

She smiled down at her little boy as he began to become more and more animated in the tub.

"Is someone feeling better?"

Her wide smile caused an equally wide, gummy smile from her son. It was these moments when all of the sleepless nights were worth it, just for the simple gestures like these. Anna could see when his eyes lit up, and it already pulled at her heart strings.

"Perhaps you will have something to eat soon," Anna proposed as she used both hands to lift William out of the tub, lying him down on the towel and bending her head to blow kisses on his forehead and stomach.

Anna wrapped him in the towel and rose to her feet, bringing William upright as he looked over her shoulder as she walked into their bedroom to change him. She hoped that the change of clothes would help to keep William cooled down, however her hopes were soon dashed as he began to cry again.

"Oh no, my darling. Please."

Anna pleaded with him as she finished changing him and lifted him off the bed and back into her arms. She rocked him gently as his cries reigned throughout the room again.

She had grown used to this though. Some things would calm him down and make him feel better, but these only lasted for a short while. Doctor Clarkson had insisted that this was quite a normal stage for all babies to go through, and that old remedies such as a drop of brandy or simply something to gnaw on would do the trick. But neither seemed to work at the moment, and Anna was beginning to feel like this was more than a mild discomfort.

She began to speak softly and reassuringly in his ear, stroking his forehead softly as she felt it beginning to heat up once more and began to run out of ideas.

* * *

John had tried not to fall asleep all day. The truth being, he was exhausted.

Mrs Hughes had questioned him once or twice, and Mrs Patmore had already offered to bake them a pie that they would simply have to heat up later on. Bates knew he had promised Anna he would cook for them tonight, however he knew that anything Mrs Patmore could rustle together would be twice as good as anything he could make, so he reluctantly accepted her help. She had cooked for them a few times in the past, and a lot in the first couple of weeks after the birth. The married couple knew that it was her way of helping, and since Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore had become grandparents of sorts to their son, neither of them minded in the slightest. Anna had commented multiple times that it was nice to still taste the cooking of Mrs Patmore now that she was no longer a servant there. It reminded her of old times.

He had fumbled and dropped the brush for Lord Grantham's dinner jacket twice that evening whilst he dressed him, and His Lordship had enquired three times as to whether he was all right.

"Just tired, m'lord."

"I hope we're not working you too hard." Lord Grantham replied with a chuckle, although Bates could see from his face that he was being serious too, and that he was concerned.

John let out a smile, "No. William is keeping us awake, is all."

"Ah," His Lordship agreed. "I remember when the girls were that young."

John highly doubted that his employer remembered the nightly feeds and consoling, since he would have employed nannies to do that. But he said nothing, and simply nodded in agreement.

"William is teething at the moment, so it is quite the task for all of us."

Lord Grantham grimaced. "Oh I do hope the little chap gets them through soon."

"So do we, m'lord," Bates smiled.

"Of course." Lord Grantham understood. "How is Anna?"

"Tired. But she was born to be a mother. She is great with William."

Lord Grantham smiled. "Naturally. Well, if there is anything I can do, be sure to let me know."

Bates nodded in gratitude and continued to dress his employer before he finished, and Lord Grantham left to go downstairs for dinner.

John had decided to wait until he got home to eat – since Mrs Patmore had given him the pie to take home – and since William would be awake at irregular hours at the moment, he and Anna usually ate later than usual. So whilst the others were eating, Bates sat in the rocking chair beside the fireplace and read his book, his eyes trained on the page as he attempted to keep them pried open. It was certainly a task. He had borrowed this book recently from the library upstairs because he had never read it, but it was currently failing to garner his attentions.

He began to think about Anna and William, and how the two of them must be getting on at home. It was times like this when he was stranded here at work that Bates wished that he and Anna had their hotel. He felt like he was always missing moments of William growing up – the milestones that every mother and father enjoyed to see – and he knew that as his son grew older and got more into a routine of sleeping at night, he would start to see him less and less. His half days and occasional afternoons off when Lord Grantham was out riding and there was no mending to do would hardly suffice.

He and Anna had started talking about it again in the past few months – they had done whilst she was with child too – but Bates was yet to go back down to London and enquire about the selling of the house in person. That reminded him, he needed to send a letter to the new tenants and see if they would be interested in buying again. Things had been so hectic recently he had completely forgotten.

John began to think about their dream again – how it would be the answer to all of their problems. It would be a fresh start for both of them, away from the unwanted memories that their current location held after the recent years and also the chance for John to be closer and spend more time with his wife and son. They had always dreamt of a hotel, or a smaller inn, by the beach – maybe in Whitby, a place which had always enchanted them both upon their visits, or even Scarborough which would attract more custom for them. It was a work in progress, but neither of them minded. When they were awake enough they would lie beneath their bed sheets and whisper about their future plans, and it would be the perfect end to his day. He would lie and let his fingers ghost up and down her bare arm, feeling every inch of her perfect skin beneath his fingertips whilst she would often caress the stubble of his jaw that he had not shaved because he knew she liked it that way.

John sighed and smiled to himself, as he always did when he realised how far Anna had come. From the ruins that Green had left her in, she had risen from the ashes and proven herself to be the strong, independent woman he had fallen in love with – not that there had ever been any doubt. But she had proven to him as she had countless times, and she had proven to herself. And now they were happy. Happier than they had ever been, and no one could dampen those spirits. John would not let them.

"It's nice to see you happy."

The voice of Mrs Hughes suddenly pulled John from his thoughts, and he shook himself. He looked up from the rocking chair to see her smiling down at him, the hall having emptied after dinner had finished without him even realising.

"I have everything to be happy about." John replied truthfully.

"That you do. That you both deserve."

John smiled in agreement.

"Might you tell Anna later that I should be popping down later in the week to see her and the wee bairn? It feels like forever since I've seen them."

"I'm sure Anna would love that, Mrs Hughes. I will let her know."

Mrs Hughes smiled and nodded in gratitude. "His Lordship should be ringing for you soon, and after that you be getting home. Have an early night."

John was in no position to argue with the housekeeper, so he agreed. And just as he did, Lord Grantham rung to go upstairs and change. It took John quicker than usual to complete his duties that night, and soon he was heading back home.

As he neared the row of cottages, he prayed that William had settled for Anna tonight. Often this week he had returned to hear William from the end of the row, but tonight he heard nothing.

He opened the front door slowly and quietly, locking it behind him, and discarded his cane by the front door. The cottage was strangely silent.

"Anna?" he called out quietly, in case William was asleep. It would not do well to wake him if he was.

He looked in the kitchen to find it empty and he placed the pie down on the table before continuing his search.

John entered the living room, found it empty and turned back around to head upstairs. He approached their bedroom and turned the handle carefully. He entered the room, careful with his steps, and his eyes came to view the most beautiful sight.

Anna was fast asleep on the bed, her heading resting on one of the pillows and her arm stretched over the other, and beside her on his side of the bed was William, also asleep. His fists were balled up as was usual in his sleep, and his legs were kicking out occasionally.

John smiled, tears forming in his eyes as he watched the two most important people in his world. He knew he would have to wake them soon and that William would have to go back into his cradle, but right now he could not bear to wake them.

As he sat down on the bed, careful not to disturb them, he realised that this had been the perfect way for them to move on with their lives after the dreadful concert. To carry on with their lives, to move on and to start a family of their own was the perfect way to avenge the attack – to prove that it had not defeated them.

And as he watched his wife and son sleep peacefully at complete ease, he knew they hadn't been.

**THE END**


End file.
